As I've sat by my open window today, drinking in the sweet air and the August sunshine, clouds of dandelion fluff have softly floated by. Dancing on a warm and gentle breeze they have entertained me for hours as I whiled away my lazy Sunday morning. Of all the hundreds drifting past, one blew right in to dance before my eyes. I caught it gently and made a wish before releasing it out the window, and smiled.
That one simple act had transported me back some thirty-eight years. I was, for a moment, three again. Nearly four, (very important that, when you are only three), and in my Grandmother's garden. I'd picked a stem of cottonwool lovliness, a dandilion head just ready to blow.
"One 'o' Clock, Two 'o' clock. Three..." we chanted together as each tiny puff of a childs breath scattered dozens of seeds to the wind.
"Quick, catch one and make a wish" grandma said, her wrinkled hand gently closing around a floating seed. "They are fairies and if you catch one gently, only one mind, and whisper your wish to her...it might come true."
I don't know what my lovely Grandma wished for, wishes should be secret she said, but I still remember mine. I wished for a pair of lovely red shoes, and I got them. It didn't matter that they were in the sale, or that Grandma was whispering in my Mother's ear; it was my fairy who made my Mum relent and let me have those glorious red shoes instead of her choice of sensible brown.
So will my wish today come true? I'll have to wait and see.
I'm sorry, but I can't tell you what I wished for. Wishes should be secret afterall.